All About the Eyes
by Pumples
Summary: Lois desperately searches for the hidden truth behind Clark's glasses. A revelation fic, but not THE revelation!


Rated K+

Completed August 26th 2006

- - - - - - - - - - -

Lois glanced at the wicker doormat, checking for any post that might have arrived that morning. She had just come downstairs after spending ten minutes in the bathroom preparing herself to go out. She was due to meet her mother for lunch and had the usual case of butterflies that always went with the arrangement. In truth, she had been putting off seeing her mother for quite a while, but on this occasion had been unable to come up with a reasonable excuse in time to prevent it. Ellen Lane was a determined woman, and usually got her own way.

Ever since Lois had gotten married, Ellen Lane had been desperate to catch up with her daughter, bursting to share some invaluable gems of wisdom that she had learned from her own marriage. Lois, in truth, had always been less than enthusiastic about meeting up with her mother, simply because it always left her feeling stressed and downbeat. She loved her dearly, but would much rather have spent a relaxing Saturday with her husband instead of being reminded, once again, how turbulent her parents marriage had been.

That morning, however, Lois had been filled with relief at the fact that she had made plans for lunch. Clark had been roused from sleep at an ungodly hour with pleas for him to help with yet another terrorist shootout somewhere in Metropolis. It was the third time he had been called out before sunrise that week, and both him and Lois were understandably exhausted from all of the disrupted sleep. Clark always tried his best not to disturb her when he had to get up in the night, but Lois always felt his absence, even in her sleep. She was too used to him being her pillow and comforter to not notice when he wasn't there.

If she hadn't made plans it would have been most likely that she would have been spending the best part of the day on her own. She loved her home, but spending the entire day alone in it made her more than a little stir-crazy.

As she gazed at the mat, a pale cream envelope caught her attention. Though addressed to Clark, it was calling her name, begging her to open it. She bit her bottom lip in contemplation. It wouldn't be the first time that she had opened some of husband's mail. In fact, Clark usually requested she did if he was busy himself, but this time he wasn't around to say whether it was okay or not.

"Hmm," She muttered aloud. "Dilemma."

Picking up the envelope, she had every intention of carrying it to the coffee table, where she knew Clark was more likely to take notice of it. Judging by the fact he had yet to return, almost eight hours after he had departed, Lois had every reason to assume that he wouldn't be home until late afternoon at the earliest. If she were to leave the envelope in its current location on the doormat she would easily forget it, or more alarmingly slip over it when she returned from having lunch with her mother. She wouldn't be much of a wife or future mother if she left such hazards lying around the house.

She hadn't, however, predicted how difficult it would be, once she had the envelope in her hand, to let it go. It had a tempting, urging influence that controlled her, and for the moment she could think of nothing else than what might be lurking inside of it.

Under closer inspection she noticed, above the address, a stamp of urgency, which immediately caused her pulse to quicken. If the letter inside was urgent then she should, being the considerate person that she was, open it to save Clark the time later. In fact, she should read the letter herself and relay the message to him when he came home. After all, if it was urgent, it didn't matter who opened the letter, rather that the message was passed onto the right person.

Being Superman, Clark was far too busy to waste time opening letters and recycling the envelopes. Lois decided that she would do the opening herself, on Clark's behalf. Not because she was nosy, but because she loved him.

Within seconds she had the inner section of the letter in her hands, and the envelope she discarded on the floor by her feet. Despite her initial expectations, instead of a wad of wordy, possibly hand-written paper, she found inside a simple typed note with a business card attached.

Slightly disappointed, she began to read.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

_Dear Mr. C. Kent,_

_We have noticed from our records that you are due for an up-to date eye examination. _

_Your eyesight is invaluable to your quality of living and regular eye examinations will help to maintain your optical health. We therefore recommend that you make an appointment at your earliest convenience._

_Please contact us via the telephone number on the attached card, or alternatively call in at the practice._

_Yours Sincerely,_

_Metropolis City Opticians_

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

An eye test!?

Laughter filed the room as Lois thought of her husband sitting in a darkened room, reading various sized letters off of a board on the wall. The idea amused her no end. His eyesight was nothing less than perfect, and then some. She highly doubted that the optician had specific examinations to test the effectiveness of heat and X-ray vision.

Then it dawned on her. Superman wasn't being requested to take an eye test, Clark Kent was. The Clark Kent she was married to. The Clark Kent who wore glasses.

But how was this even possible? Clark's eyesight was exactly the same as Superman's was. By subjecting Clark to an eye examination, the optician would clearly be able to see that he had no problem with his eyesight. What would they think of him insisting on wearing glasses despite his perfect vision? The thought puzzled Lois immensely, and her arrangement with her mother was momentarily forgotten.

Judging by the letter, she assumed that Clark was requested to take regular eye examinations, just like everyone else. He must lie, she thought to herself. He must sit there and make up answers to the tests until the optician is convinced that he needs glasses. She laughed again. Her husband really was a devious so-and-so. So much for the theory that Superman could only ever tell the truth.

Her brow crinkled slightly as another thought entered her mind. Surely his answers would be so unpredictable that he would end up with the most ridiculous, unusable prescription? What good would that be? He'd be better off preventing his examinations until the optician finally crossed him off of their patient list, although, as Lois had learned from her own experience, that particular theory didn't always work out as well as hoped.

It was in that moment that Lois felt her investigative instincts kick in hard. She would find out the truth. She had to!

Clark had never mentioned the secret behind his glasses before, and the idea of asking had never crossed her mind. She knew that he couldn't use any of his optical 'abilities' while wearing glasses. He had always pushed them down his nose and glanced over the top of the frames; an action, which Lois had assumed - once she was aware that he was Superman - was to protect the fragile glass.

She had, herself, worn his glasses on various occasions and hadn't been aware of any change to her own eyesight. Surely if he wore prescription glasses she would have noticed a difference? Her mind scanned back to the time in his apartment when she had almost been blown to smithereens when the helicopter assassin, sent to kill Clark, had mistaken her for him. If she hadn't noticed any difference, then the glass used in the frames would have to be ordinary unaltered glass without a prescription. It was the only explanation. But that, in turn, meant that the optician had to know about Superman's real identity in order to fit the plain glass in the frames.

A nasty feeling flooded into the pit of Lois stomach. Had Clark really told his optician that he was Superman before he had told her? The idea made her feel uneasy.

He had described the feeling of being tormented during the months it had taken him to tell her the truth about his alter ego. Surely he wouldn't have been able to share the information so freely with anyone else, especially not an establishment that kept thorough records on their patients? And why would Clark need regular eye examinations in the first place if the lenses in his glasses were filled with plain glass? Surely the Optician wasn't _that_ desperate for business?

Besides, she pondered, even under the influence of Kryptonite; Clark's sight was rarely affected for more than a few minutes, and at worst was blurred only temporarily. Surely if his eyesight couldn't deteriorate then there was no need for it to be monitored regularly? As far as she was aware, Dr. Klein carried out any and all biological tests on Superman at Star Labs.

Her gut instincts forced her to cross the possibility of the optician knowing Clark's secret from her mind. Even so, she couldn't help but feel that there was something incredibly sneaky going on. She knew that Clark was very good at keeping a secret, there was no denying that, but the fact that this time it revolved around his glasses was concerning for Lois. What could he _possibly_ have to hide?

From what she could remember from the times that Martha had shared her photograph collection with her, Clark had worn glasses from a young age, but why? Surely by the time he had learned to fly, he would have discovered his optical abilities too? Again, it had never occurred to Lois to ask.

Perhaps Clark had worn the glasses as a child to stop him from inadvertently burning something with his heat vision? There was a possibility that in his younger days his glasses had been used as more of a preventative measure than a disguise.

Clark had worn glasses even before Superman had appeared. That fact Lois was certain of. The first day they had met he had been wearing them. The only explanation was that he had worn the glasses to stop him from using his powers without previous thought. Even she had to admit that the idea had some merit to it. It still didn't explain, however, how he had managed to fool the optician.

Lois personally hated eye examinations with a passion. Being the control freak that she was, having someone ask her questions and scribble away notes at her answers - notes that she could neither see nor understand - was unbearable. She wore her own glasses when she absolutely had to, which was not very often. Even Clark had been unaware of the fact that she was far-sighted until he had caught her reading in bed with her glasses on. It was a weakness she was more than a little ashamed of.

Maybe he removes the lenses and replaces them himself? The thought struck her like a bolt of electricity. That's it! That's the answer! She'd seen him tighten the screws in his glasses hundreds of times when they had become loose. In fact, he did it more regularly than he should really have to. She had even noticed, to her dismay, that he owned a specialist tool in order to tighten them to just the right strength. He couldn't just use a screwdriver like everyone else. Lois couldn't deny that Clark was a bit of a nerd, but on occasions some of his quirky habits quite unnerved her.

Her mind continued to tick. Where would he keep the lenses? He must have a secret stash! The idea made her instantly laugh out loud. She kept a secret stash of chocolate; he had a secret stash of lenses. What an odd couple they made!

Then it occurred to her. As far as she was aware there were only a few select places in the house where something could be hidden. Under the loose floorboard in the kitchen (the current location for her chocolate collection), the back of the wardrobe in the spare bedroom (where Clark hid her Christmas and Birthday presents), and the secret closet in the lounge where the spare Superman capes and suits were kept. Where else could he be hiding things? In that instant Lois knew that she had to find it. She wouldn't be able to leave the house, eat or sleep until she had.

Regretfully remembering her mother, she attempted to convince herself that Ellen would understand. She knew that her mother was not beyond snooping, and would be fully in agreement with Lois' need to discover her husband's secrets. It could well be one of the useful gems of knowledge that she was intending to pass onto her daughter over lunch. An apologetic phone call that evening would be sure to set Lois back in her mother's good books.

Rolling up the sleeves of her pale blue cardigan, Lois set to the task. She wasn't entirely sure of what her treasure chest would look like, but nevertheless she found herself filled with an electrifying charge of energy. She was confident that victory, however sweet, would be hers.

- - - - - - - - - - -

"Lois?" Clark called as he entered the house by the bedroom window. It was late afternoon, and he was finally returning after finishing his duties as Superman.

Despite his weariness, he had decided against arriving home as Clark Kent. Their neighbours had never given the impression that they were overly interested in either his or Lois' comings and goings, but he was fully aware that arriving home, after never having appeared to leave, would raise their suspicions.

He hopped down from the window ledge, shimmying past the net curtains as he went, and scanned the room for his wife. He wasn't altogether expecting her to still be in the bedroom, but considering their week of disturbed nights, he wouldn't have been too surprised to find her curled up on their spacious double bed, having an afternoon nap.

As his awareness heightened, he lay eyes for the first time on the mangled remains of his bedroom. It seemed, from his perspective, to have been subjected to an explosion of some variety, although he couldn't shake the niggling feeling that it had something or other to do with his wife.

Using his super-hearing he detected a scuffle of sound coming from the loft above his head and subconsciously his heart skipped a beat. There was a remote chance that the house had been broken into and that his wife was being held hostage. Judging from their history together, he was aware that it would be too dangerous a possibility to overlook.

Noticing that the sound was coming from the most inaccessible part of his house fuelled Clark's doubts. Any intruder would know that Clark Kent would have trouble finding her up there, but they would be ignorant to the fact that he, as Superman, wouldn't.

Calling her name once again, he shot across the landing and up the assembled loft ladder to the rescue of his darling wife. Not knowing what to expect, he entered the loft space with his heart firmly in his mouth, his breathing irrational.

It didn't matter how many times his wife was put in a life-threatening situation; the thought of loosing her always overrode his ability to remain calm. It didn't take him more than a second to notice that like the rest of the house, the loft was also mimicking a disaster zone.

Both him and Lois had spent days tidying and sorting the loft space soon after they had moved in. It had been a mutual decision to unwrap their most personal belongings to go out on display, while the rest, they had agreed, would remain in the boxes they had been moved in. It had taken so long for them to finish due to the fact that Lois had disallowed the use of superpowers. However, they had both been united in their pride of the finished result. Clark found it hard to believe, therefore, that Lois had created the mess herself, not at least without good reason.

"Honey?" He called again, his voice unable to hide the concern he felt for her. Receiving no immediate answer, he was filled with relief as her head slowly appeared from behind a pile of boxes. Her eyes were wide with surprise, but she managed to throw a sheepish smile his way.

"Oh, hello." She replied, her voice hinting at how awkward she felt. Her face was flushed, but not in a panicked, terrified way. She seemed almost ... guilty.

"Are you alright?" Clark asked quickly, "Are you hurt?"

"No," Lois replied with an awkward laugh, "I'm fine."

Clark raised a questioning eyebrow at the mess that he was now pretty certain she had created. "Really?"

Now that his initial panic had passed, he was interested in hearing Lois' reasons for turning their house upside down.

"I got a bit carried away," She admitted, glancing at the mess around her, "but I can't find what I am looking for."

"And just what is that?" he asked, watching as she moved into a standing position before him.

"You tell me." She placed her hands on her hips, defying him to deceive her.

Clark was taken aback by her words. How was he supposed to know what she was looking for? Telepathy had never been one of his strengths, and he was certain that even if it had, it wouldn't have worked with Lois.

"I'm supposed to know?" He inquired tentatively.

"Well you're the one keeping secrets so you should know." She snapped back in response. Clark's eyes widened.

Since revealing that he was Superman, he had been careful to share as many of his secrets with Lois as he felt comfortable, and he knew that she did the same in return. Judging by her words, however, it was clear that she felt that he had been hiding another big one from her.

"Lois, calm down." He soothed, reaching out to place a comforting palm on her shoulder. "You're going to have to help me with this. I have no idea what you are talking about."

"Don't lie to me." She retaliated, her frustration at the situation evident. "You have a secret stash here somewhere, and I am going to find it." She turned her attention back to the boxes through which she had been searching. Clark was silent for a moment, her words slowly registered in his brain.

"You think I'm hiding drugs from you?" He demanded, unable to hide the disbelief from his tone. It was just too unbelievable to comprehend. She couldn't honestly think that of him. Could she?

For a moment Lois' face was expressionless as she once again turned around to face him. "Don't mock me!" She fumed, her cheeks flushing angry red.

"I'm not mocking you, Lois" He responded, choosing his words carefully. "I just can't believe that you would think that of me."

Lois let out a sigh of frustration. She wasn't being fair to him. He was tired and shouldn't have to put up with her mood swings after being out all morning saving the planet.

"I'm sorry." She apologised, reaching out to hug him. Once her cheek was pressed against his chest she let out a muffled reply. "And no, I don't think you are hiding drugs."

Glancing up at his relieved eyes she let out an amused chuckle. Her words seemed the silliest things to ever have to say to Superman. She squeezed him tightly, trying to replace the memories of the morning with sweeter ones of Clark.

Reluctantly pulling away, she scanned the room through unclouded eyes, willing the mess to disappear before them. Had she really caused chaos in their usually, happy, peaceful home? And had it really been over a pair of glasses? Remembering the hours that they had spent tidying the loft, she felt her stomach begin to contract with guilt. She had loved spending those happy hours in the dusty stillness with Clark, sorting through the boxes of his and her possessions, delighting over old memories that they had both longed to share. In a few, careless hours she had undone all of their hard work.

"Gosh, what a mess." She groaned, glancing up at Clark's face to decipher his reaction to her statement. He wasn't giving much away other than a knowing smile that played at the corner of his lips.

"May I?" He requested, leaning over to kiss the top of her head tenderly. Lois could do little but nod timidly in agreement.

As a whirl of blue and red passed her, she watched in awe as her incredible husband span around the room, tidying and sorting in record time. As the room quickly returned to its previous state and Clark appeared before her again, without even a hint of dizziness, she rewarded him with a grateful smile.

"Sometimes it really is great to have a super-hero for a husband." She chuckled, the relief in her voice unmistakable, causing Clark to smile and reach out to tuck her under his arm. Once snuggled warm in his embrace, he led the way to the loft ladder awaiting them. The sooner he had her out of the loft, the sooner he could begin to understand what had passed during his absence.

- - - - - - -

"May I ask what started all of this?" He enquired, glancing down at his wife as she rested her head against his chest. She was snuggled up close to him, feeling much calmer now that the house was back to its usual tidy state.

"I don't think you want to know." Lois replied with a sigh, feeling a blush touch at her cheeks. Now that she was in a more placid state of mind she wanted most of all to banish the past few hours to the back of her mind.

"Believe me." He chuckled, "I do."

Lois once again let out an embarrassed laugh as her cheeks turned from a pleasant rose to a flustered scarlet. "Well," she began to explain; "I found a letter that caught my attention."

"Okay?" Clark encouraged, gesturing for her to continue.

"It was from the optician."

Despite his usual strong intuition, Clark continued to struggle to understand her. "So you're due for an eye test?" He asked, praying for a simple answer.

"No." She replied candidly, "Actually, you are."

Lois couldn't help but enjoy the momentary look of surprise and frustration that crossed Clark's face. It was clear that her intuition had been right after all. He was hiding something.

"I think I know where this is going." He mumbled, running a hand through his thick hair.

"Ha!" Lois shrieked, jumping up out of his arms, pointing at him animatedly. "I knew it! I knew you were hiding something!"

"Okay, okay." Clark soothed, raising his hands as a form of defence from her jabbing finger. "I figured one day you'd find out for yourself. Or better ask."

"So, how do you do it?" She urged, ignoring his pointed remark, her excitement bubbling inside of her.

"Why don't you tell me what you come up with first?" He knew perfectly well that she would have come up with her own theory, however far-fetched or inconceivable. Her smug smile indicated how accurate he was.

"Well, I assumed that you replace the prescription lenses with plain glass. I just couldn't figure out where you keep the spare lenses." Clark couldn't help but chuckle. That was his Lois. His clever, determined, headstrong, Lois.

"You're right," He admitted, his cheeks reddening slightly. Lois let out a cry of relief and delight. She loved being proved correct.

"And the optician?" She leaned forward slightly in anticipation of his answer. Clark smiled at her, delaying his announcement for as long as possible.

"I lie."

Lois bit her bottom lip to try and control the laughter bubbling inside of her. Even so a snort escaped from her nose like a croak. "Mr. Kent," She chided. "How could you?"

She loved the fact that this man; her husband, confidant and guardian was so uniquely imperfect. Despite his flamboyant role as saviour to the masses, he was riddled with insecurities and weaknesses. Lois loved him the most when he allowed her to see this side of him, it brought out the protective element in her, and allowed her the opportunity to repay him for all the times he had gone out of his way to comfort and reassure her.

"I know." He replied, her phoney disapproval striking a nerve despite the humour in her voice. "I hate doing it, but I haven't really found an alternative-"

"Clark." She interrupted. "I love the fact that you lie." Upon registering her words, she hastily attempted to correct herself. "What I mean is," she shrugged slightly, "sometimes you just can't help it."

"But it's wrong." He replied indignantly.

"It makes you more…" She paused, searching for the right words. As she did, her face softened and she leaned towards him, her love for him evident in her eyes. "...human."

Clark repaid her words with a loving kiss, and whispered a short 'thank you' against her lips.

"So now are you going to tell me?" She pressed, too involved in the mystery to get distracted by his kiss. Clark smiled fondly at her. It was her passion and intrepidity that he loved and admired in her the most.

"Over there," He replied, gesturing at the secret closet in the wall that was home to his capes and spare suits. Lois was up in an instant, spinning the hidden door around until she discovered her well-earned prize behind it. She had the flaps of the cardboard box open before Clark could even blink. Laughter erupted from her throat as she turned to face him, holding up a handful of discarded frames, all with varying prescriptions and thickness in her hand. He couldn't help but chuckle himself at the obscurity of it all.

Lois seemed relieved to finally be in the on secret, and he himself was thankful that it had been relatively easy to tell. Compared to sharing with her the fact that he was Superman, this had been a breeze.

"Are you happy now?" He asked, knowing by the cheerful expression on her face that she was. He didn't need to ask, but he liked hearing it all the same.

"Yes." She replied, flashing him a captivating smile. She carefully placed the lenses back in the box and returned it to its initial location. Spinning the door closed, she made her way back to the sofa, her sock-covered feet padding softly on the carpet. Once back in Clark's embrace, she felt her body finally relax.

"So," she questioned, poking him gently on the chest to get his attention. "Do you have any more secrets that I don't know about?"

Clark took a moment to pause for dramatic effect, then fixed her with a loving stare. "None that you need to destroy the house for."

THE END


End file.
